Hating Psychiatrists
by BlessedMay
Summary: Logan comforts Kitty after a psychiatrist visit gone wrong. M for some bad language.


(A/N) So... the lyrics here are from the song Hurt. Originally by Nine Inch Nails, but I prefer the version by Johnny Cash. You should listen to it before or during this fic. It'll put you in the mood for angst.

_I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel._

_I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real._

_- Johnny Cash_

This fic is set after Piotr Rasputin sacrifices himself to spread the cure for the legacy virus. It's roughly... half a year after.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"Katherine Pryde, A.K.A. Shadow Cat."

Her name felt like a title when it was spoken by her psychiatrist. The woman perpetually frowned; lines creased her weary face from the over used action. The quiet woman sitting opposite her sneered before responding glibly.

"That's my name, don't wear it out." If possible, the woman's frown deepened.

"These sessions would be a lot easier if you would be serious about the situation Katherine." Brown eyes sheathed themselves as delicate eyebrows furrowed together. Her pale, pink lips pursed as a stab of acute pain seared her heart.

"I'm being entirely too serious about the situation, thanks." Her psychiatrist appeared to disapprove of her answer, but Kitty was beyond caring at the time.

"Professor Xavier did not send you here for you to waste time and money on avoidance tactics." Bitter disgust was palpable on the slim woman's tongue. She didn't boher answering the tense woman, she merely fixed a practiced blank look on her face and let her vision blur. She was beginning to think the woman wouldn't stop trying after three months of four sessions a week.

"The professor thought you would appreciate the opportunity to talk to an uninvolved, unbiased third party about how you feel." Traitorous lips peeled open and expunged a sarcastic thought.

"I appreciate the opportunity, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take him up on the offer." Her psychiatrist appeared affronted. She reeled for a brief moment before changing topics.

"Honestly Katherine, how would Peter feel about you being so flippant about his death?" Something snapped the thin cord that held Kitty in her place. She launched from her seat and ripped the coffee table from its comfortable spot on the striped rug.

"How dare you?" Her voice was dangerously low and her normally kind, brown eyes flickered with unrestrained rage. "How dare you make assumptions about him, you didn't even know him. Not like I do."

"Then tell me Katherine." The psychiatrist looked disturbingly pleased to get a rise out of Kitty. Her request was denied violently when Kitty slapped the woman hard across the cheek.

"You don't deserve to know him you heartless bitch." The furious woman didn't wait for the doctor to call security, she slipped out the door and ran to the motorcycle waiting out front. Logan said nothing, merely handed her a helmet and fired up the engine. For how long they drove, Kitty didn't know, she was busy burning away the memory of whispered confessions, warm hugs and stolen kisses in the musky scent of Logan's leather jacket. Her attempts were failures however, as thick tears began to well up in her eyes.

"Oh God." She gasped before beginning to sob with real force. Logan pulled over into a field and climbed off before pulling her off as well. They ducked under a large elm tree and he pulled her into his arms. She cried until it felt as though her tear ducts were throbbing with the intensity of her sobs.

"Please Logan, make it stop hurting." He snorted, a thick hand came up to cup her chin.

"Would if I could Kitten." She burrowed her head into his chest after he removed his hand from her face. He began to pet her head; long, lazy strokes that tangled his fingers in her curly hair.

"So what made you snap?" He broke the silence. The only sound other than their breathing was the faint chirp of a bird several trees away.

"Stupid woman making assumptions about Peter." He huffed before wrapping a muscled arm around her slim frame.

"All she's got are assumptions since you won't tell her anything 'bout you or Pete." He didn't sound accusing, so Kitty refrained from slapping him.

"Like she deserves to know anything about him, about how the most unselfish man in the entire world died to save a world that hates people like him." She chuckled darkly, "Died to save a world that doesn't give a flying fuck about his sacrifice."

"Kitten, Pete died so that people could keep on being selfish and heartless." He paused, an unfamiliar expression on his face, "But he also died so that people can heal, grow and love." His eyes were dark, "Don't put his memory to shame by refusing to live."

She did slap him this time. Her small hand came up and hurdled across his face with a cracking noise. Time seemed to pause for both of them. Her brown eyes were frozen wide staring into the deep expanses of his blue eyes. Then the pain set in.

"Fuck!" She cried, cradling her swelling hand.

"Smooth." Logan commented, returning from his unnaturally pensive state of mind. Kitty sent him a dark look before gazing at her hand again.

"Am I a bad person for being unable to move on Logan? I mean, I know it has been half a year and all and everyone else seems to have moved on."

"Everyone else is not you Kitten. You were a lot closer to him than the rest of us." She slumped in his arms and stared at her lap.

"It's just so hard sometimes." She whispered, sniffling, "I look around and still expect him to enter the room or say something sweet and sensitive. I walk by the garden and still expect him to be sitting on a bench drawing something that caught his interest." She choked back a sob. "I miss him so much."

"There are some things you have to do one step at a time." Logan whispered, remembering Mariko and her painful death, "Healing comes with time. Sometimes it takes years, sometimes the path is painful to walk and sometimes you are so alone, screaming won't draw a person's attention." Kitty knew his words were coming straight from the heart and experience. "Healing is worth it Kitty, you just gotta stick it out and hope for the best. Carve your own damn future instead of letting depression eat you alive."

"How?" The question was simple, but its answer was even simpler.

"Live."


End file.
